


boom boom into my heart

by wearing_tearing



Series: reality warping [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Shower Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 17:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: Bucky’s singing becomes a staple of Steve’s morning routine.





	boom boom into my heart

Steve hates mornings.

He figures this is the universe’s way of punishing him for getting a job he loves: having to wake up everyday at 6AM, rushing through breakfast and a shower, all so he can catch the train and be at the PT Clinic at 8, ready to start his day. It’s been Steve’s own personal hell since he started working as an art therapist, but seeing people slowly come back to themselves while holding a brush and creating something makes up for the lack of sleep. Most of the time.

So, Steve hates mornings.

That is, until his new neighbor moves in.

 

**

 

“Incoming!”

Steve barely has time to plaster himself to the wall before a cardboard box labeled _room shit_ slides past him and down the stairs, hitting the sharp corner of their building staircase, and stopping just before falling another flight of steps. Steve blinks at the offending box, trying to catch his breath.

“Goddammit, Sam! We could’ve hurt someone,” says the same voice that yelled out the warning.

“You’re the one with butter fingers, you dick,” Sam answers. “Don’t try to blame this on me.”

“Excuse _me_ ,” the other guy says. “It’s not my fault I only have _one arm_.”

Steve’s eyes widen in horror, but this Sam person doesn’t seem like he’s sorry. He keeps bickering with the other guy as they make their way down the stairs, but both stop short when they catch sight of Steve who is still leaning against the wall.

“Oh shit,” the guy who is _not_ Sam says, rushing to Steve. “Fuck, are you okay? The box didn’t hit you, did it?”

Steve blinks up at him, momentarily speechless. The guy is… well, _gorgeous_ would be an understatement. His blue eyes are bright and flash with concern, and his pink and plump lips are pressed in a tight line, framed by a sharp jaw covered in stubble and even sharper cheekbones. What really gets to Steve is his hair, though: a fluffy mess of curls on top of his head, looking soft and shiny and like it’d feel like heaven in Steve’s hands.

“Are you hurt?” the guy asks again, this time reaching out and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. His only hand, it seems, as the left sleeve of his shirt is pinned at the shoulder.

The touch is startling but welcome, and Steve doesn’t stop himself from leaning into it when he answers, “I’m fine. Your warning came in time.”

“Thank fuck,” the guy sighs in relief. “I’m really sorry about that.”

Steve gives him a small smile. “I’m fine, really. Your box, though…”

They both glance at the dented box sitting at the foot of the stairs.

“At least it wasn’t anything important,” the guys says, letting go of Steve so he can pick up the box.

“I thought your gravity blankets were the most valuable thing you owned,” Sam says, raising his eyebrows at the other guy.

The guy rolls his eyes. “They don’t break, though. Unlike your face, if you don’t come help me.”

Sam makes a face at him, but shuffles forward until he can grab the box. He glances from Steve to Bucky and then says, “I’ll be upstairs.”

Steve bites down on the inside of his cheek not to laugh and watches as Sam goes. “Which one of you is moving in?”

“That’d be me,” the guy says and raises his new free hand before extending it to Steve. “Bucky Barnes, 41B.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve says, shaking Bucky’s hand. “41D.”

Bucky grins, wide and happy. “Hey! Next door neighbors. I promise not to be too loud.”

Steve snorts out a laugh. “After the last tenant, anyone will be better.”

Bucky winces. “Really?”

Steve nods and tries not to think about the absolute shit Brock Rumlow was as a person. “Really. Thin walls, shitty guy. You need help with your things?”

Bucky waggles his brows. “You want to give me a _hand_?”

“I guess, since I can’t give you a better sense of humor,” Steve deadpans.

Steve stares in fascination when Bucky throws his head back and laughs, his mouth opened and eyes scrunched shut. Steve’s fingers itch to draw him, but he’ll have to wait until he’s back in his apartment and away from anyone’s prying eyes.

“That hurt,” Bucky says with a smile, hand clutching at his chest. “But nah, I’m good. Thanks for the offer.”

“No problem,” Steve says, turning around so he can climb up. “See you around?”

“Yeah.” Bucky keeps grinning at him. “See you around.”

 

**

 

It starts the next morning.

Steve stumbles into the bathroom with a yawn, trying his hardest to keep his eyes open while he turns on his shower and steps out of his clothes. The water is hot against his back, loosening his sore muscles and making him hum in aprreciation.

And then, right as Steve’s about to shampoo his hair, he hears it.

“ _You put the boom boom into my heart. You send my soul sky high when your lovin’ starts._ ”

Steve stops with the shampoo bottle turned halfway into his palm, mouth dropping open in shock to hear the sound of Bucky’s terrible singing voice echo through his shower stall.

“ _Jitterbug into my brain_ ,” Bucky sings, voice a little muffled by the distinct sound of his shower turning on and the thin walls that separate their apartments. “ _Goes bang bang bang till my feet do the same_.”

Steve chokes on a laugh, a smile forming on his lips as Bucky keeps on jamming to his song. As terrible as he sounds, Steve can’t help but hum along with him.

Steve hates mornings, but maybe not as much this time around.

 

**

 

Bucky’s singing becomes a staple of Steve’s morning routine.

They always seem to shower around the same time, which means Steve bares witness to Bucky’s terrible rendition of popular 80s songs. He favors Wham!, Elton John, and Cher songs, his voice cracking on the high notes, and Steve smothers a laugh with his hand and does his best to pretend Bucky’s picks don’t mean anything.

After about three weeks of daily singing, Steve bumps into him on his way out of his apartment.

“Oh shit,” Bucky says, grabbing Steve by the shoulder and keeping himself from crashing to the floor. Steve’s hand instinctively go to Bucky’s waist. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”

“You mean when you’re trying to murder me?” Steve jokes, sounding a little breathless.

“I would never,” Bucky tells him in a serious tone, and then glances at Steve’s hand on his waist. “Thanks for catching me. Wouldn’t want to start the day with a bruised tailbone.”

“No problem.” Steve lets go of him and takes a step back. “You heading to work?”

“Yup.” Bucky follows him into the elevator. “I’ve got a big day crunching numbers and glaring at my computer.”

“Accountant?” Steve asks, frowning a little.

Bucky smiles and stares down at his uniform of skinny jeans and a maroon henley. “Don’t look the part, do I?”

“Not really,” Steve admits.

“I’m doing volunteer work at the local Youth Center,” Bucky explains as they head down. “They don’t really care about suits and ties.”

“Wait, the one a few blocks over?” Steve asks, heart skipping a beat. “Run by Hill?”

Bucky beams at him. “You know it?”

“I offer art therapy there a few times a month,” Steve answers, wondering how he’s never seen Bucky there before. He also takes a chance when he says, “And I help Sharon with the Queer Alliance Club.”

“That’s cool,” Bucky says, gesturing for Steve to go first when the elevator opens. “I’ve always wanted to help with it, but my hours never work with the Club. The one I used to go to as a kid was really helpful.”

Steve’s heart sparks with hope. “Same here. I didn’t have the easiest time as a queer disabled kid when I was young, but the Club was a safe space.”

“I get that.” Bucky gives him a soft smile filled with understanding. He opens the heavy front door of their building. “Which way are you going?”

“You’re going to the Center?” Steve asks, and when Bucky nods, he flicks a thumb past his shoulder. “I’m the other way. Good luck with work.”

“You too.” Bucky waves at him, still smiling. “I’ll bump into you soon?”

Steve laughs, butterflies flipping in his stomach. “I’m counting on it.”

 

**

 

The next morning, Steve smiles through Bucky’s entire performance of _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_.

 

**

 

A knock sounds on Steve’s door, breaking his concentration. He sets down his brush and stretches, wincing when his back cracks and his muscles pull at the end of his spine. He can already tell he’s going to have to lie down with a heating pad over his lower back if he wants a chance at sleeping well tonight.

Steve pads to the door on socked feet, and almost chokes on his tongue when he sees who’s knocking.

“Hi.” Bucky smiles and gives him a little wave, gaze catching on Steve’s paint splattered clothes. “Oh, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no,” Steve is quick to answer. “Was just having some fun. What's up?”

“Well, you know Sam, right?” Bucky shifts a little on his feet. “I got a brand new pasta maker and he was supposed to come over tonight so I could beat his ass at cooking, but turns out he’s busy or something.”

Steve blinks at Bucky. “Oh… kay?”

“So, do you maybe want to come over?” Bucky asks, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip with nerves. “I already have all the pasta making stuff and… I thought maybe you’d—”

“I love pasta,” Steve interrupts him, and smiles when Bucky practically curls into himself with relief. “Do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nope.” Bucky shakes his head, pink lips curled up in pleasure. “Just yourself.”

“Give me a few minutes to change?”

“Whatever you need. Just knock when you’re ready.”

Steve runs to him room as soon as Bucky is back at his apartment. It takes him a few minutes, but he manages to find his good pair of ripped jeans and a shirt that doesn’t look too big on him.

“Okay, Steve, you can do this,” Steve says aloud to himself. “You like him, but this is just pasta. It doesn’t mean anything. Only that Bucky hates wasting food, which is a quality every human being should have. So just go over there, eat, and don’t make things weird.”

Bucky answers the door about a second after Steve knocks. His has a soft and thoughtful look on his face and a slight flush to his cheeks, and he smiles when he sees Steve.

“Come on in,” Bucky says. “You know where everything is, probably.”

Their apartments do share a layout, but Bucky’s home looks neat next to Steve’s organized mess. Every room looks cozy and lived in, but it’s very obvious everything has its own place.

“You’ve really moved in, huh?” Steve asks, taking in the homey feel of Bucky’s space.

“Yup. Still have a few boxes up in the guest bedroom, but I can get to them some other time.” Bucky leads him to the kitchen, where everything is already set up for some pasta making. “You ever done this before?”

“Can’t say I have.” Steve swallows hard. “I’m not really that great at,” he waves a hand, “kitchen stuff.”

Bucky snorts and hip checks him. “Good thing you have me, then.”

Bucky proves himself to be an expert in the kitchen, even as he has to adapt a few things because of his arm. Steve watches him as he works, enraptured, and helps Bucky with a few things here and there when Bucky asks him to. Soon enough, the delicious smell of their cooking fills the air.

“Where do you want to eat?” Bucky asks as he dumps their spaghetti bolognese into a bowl. “Table or living room?”

Steve checks his watch. “It’s almost time for late-night _Xena_ reruns.”

Bucky grins at him in delight. “A man after my own heart. Living room it is.”

Dinner with Bucky is surprisingly not as nerve-wracking as Steve thought it would be. Conversation flows easily between them as they move from topic to topic and comment on Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship. The food is also fantastic, something Steve makes sure to tell Bucky at least three different times during the meal. Bucky smiles at him every time, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners.

“Want more?” Bucky asks once they’ve cleaned their plates.

Steve shakes his head and sighs. “Don’t think I can. I’ll explode.”

Bucky laughs. “More for me, then. And I hate wasting food.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup,” Bucky says when he gets up. “It’s a quality every human being should have.”

Steve freezes in place, not daring to look at Bucky as he leaves for the kitchen, because it can’t be. There’s no way Bucky possibly could have heard him. No. Way.

Except.

Steve takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax. They have thin walls, yes, and Steve does hear Bucky sing every morning, yes, but this doesn’t mean anything.

It _doesn’t_.

Bucky is all smiles when he comes back and bumps his knee against Steve’s on the couch, although he does keep sending glances at Steve throughout the rest of the episode. Steve pretends not to notice. He does press his knee against Bucky’s, though, and has to fight back a smile when they stay like that, touching, and Bucky doesn’t make any moves to pull back.

“I better get going,” Steve says once the credits start to roll in. “I have an early day tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Steve turns on his heels to face Bucky when they get to the door, his heart racing in his chest. “I had a really great time.”

“Me too,” Bucky says softly. “We could do it again some time?”

“I’d like that,” Steve breathes out, and then takes a step back. “Good night?”

Bucky huffs out a low laugh and gives Steve a little wave again. “Good night, Steve. I’ll bump into you.”

Steve ducks his head and laughs, shooting Bucky another smile before he goes home. He leans against his door after he locks it behind it, head hitting the wood with a thunk. He closes his eyes.

Tomorrow, he’s going to find out if Bucky heard him or not.

 

**

 

Steve doesn’t get a chance to put his big plan into motion.

At an ungodly hour in the morning, he heads off to his shower, eager to wash the sleep out of his body. Once again, just as he’s about to rinse his hair, he hears it.

Bucky’s voice.

Only, something is different this time.

“ _In my life_ ,” Bucky starts, loud and awful, “ _there’s been heartache and pain_. _I don’t know if I can face it again_.”

Steve closes his eyes and listens to Bucky sing, the same kind of emotion he can hear in Bucky’s voice rising up in himself. So when Bucky gets to the chorus, Steve takes a deep breath and joins in.

“ _I want to know what love is. I want you to show me. I want to feel what love is. And I know you can show me_.”

 

**

 

“Hi,” Steve says when he sees Bucky waiting for him in the hallway, hands shaking a little while he locks his door.

“Hey,” Bucky says back, giving Steve that soft smile he always seems to wear when Steve’s around.

Steve clears his throat. “So.”

“So,” Bucky repeats. “You can hear me singing in the shower, huh?”

Steve groans and hides his face in his hands, feeling his skin heat up with a blush. “I told you we had thin walls.”

Bucky laughs a little, and when Steve looks up at him it’s to see he’s blushing as well. “I figured it out,” Bucky says, shrugging one shoulder.

“When you heard me say I liked you, you mean,” Steve says dryly. He might as well put it out there now. His dignity is long gone. He has nothing left to lose.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.” Bucky grins. “I like you too, by the way. In case you were wondering.”

Steve is the one smiling like an idiot now, but he’s allowed. Bucky _likes him_. “I wasn’t,” he jokes, and is reward with a laugh from Bucky.

“Guess I won’t invite you on that date, then,” Bucky sighs like it pains him.

“Bucky,” Steve curls a hand on the front of Bucky’s shirt right over his stomach, “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Bucky wraps his hand around Steve’s. “Dinner this Saturday? At 7? I promise to take you to a real restaurant this time.”

“No need to promise,” Steve answers. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

Bucky smiles, soft and sweet, and then leans in to kiss Steve.

 

**

 

Steve loves mornings.

He can hear the singing from the bathroom, growing louder and louder the closer he gets to the room. He bites back a smile at the way Bucky absolutely murders _Like a Virgin_ , but his eyes catch on Bucky’s naked form with interest.

“Oh, hi.” Bucky grins at him when Steve steps into the shower. “Liking the show?”

“Yes,” Steve says with a kiss to Bucky’s scarred shoulder, because it’s the truth. “Do you take requests?”

“Only for my best guy,” Bucky sniffs, but then smiles when Steve brushes a kiss to his mouth.

Steve loves mornings, but only when Bucky is right there with him.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr ~](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com/post/176559144071/boom-boom-into-my-heart)


End file.
